


Bros before hoes

by politely_ironic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Cheating, Drunkenness, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Sad Ending, mentioned Lindsay/Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2649329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politely_ironic/pseuds/politely_ironic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i wrote this in the summer of 2012. jesus help me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bros before hoes

There's not much that Gavin regrets. He regrets fucking his nose up when he was little, making it not only huge, but crooked. He regrets that one time when he ate that burrito he really shouldn't have because he had explosive diarrhea for two weeks. He regrets letting himself get shot in the side with a paintball gun, leaving a perfectly circular scar. Gavin regrets what he told Michael when he was pissed, (drunk as hell), and only knows about because of the odd, sideways glances he gives him occasionally, or when they're with Lindsay and he makes a point of holding her close, or when he's looking into his eyes and everything in them screams 'I know something deep and dark about you.'

"You're a fucking idiot." Michael says, always blunt, as he's trying to edit. Gavin has miraculously finished his editing of this video, a Minecraft Let's Play, and, being the gentleman he is, waits for Michael to finish so they can go have lunch together, and entertains himself by flicking bits of paper at his face. This is what they do, on a biweekly basis. There has always been a Gavin Michael (occasionally Lindsay when she's not working her fingers to the bone, poor dear,) time. When they are away from the rest of the Achievement Hunter office, and RoosterTeeth in general. They are more than work friends. Somewhere along the line of Gavin being an ass and Michael having a flaming temper, they have become very good friends. One might even call them best friends.

Michael finally takes a break after a piece of paper almost goes up his nose. Lindsay is unfortunately sick, so they decide to go to that ethnic place she doesn't like very much, but Michael adores. Gavin isn't sure he likes it either, but he can let Michael have his smelly ethnic food. He lets him drive too. He's been worried about his friend lately. Tense around the shoulders, quiet, agitated, and really rather unhappy looking. Even Gavin, who does not pay attention, who really never generally cares enough to pay attention, can pick up on that. To make matters worse, he knows he and Lindsay have had a couple of nasty encounters recently, one in which she spent the night at Barbra's house. 

"You know," Michael says as their food arrives, looking colorful and dubious, "I've been thinking..." he lowers his voice, "about proposing to Lindsay."  
"Oh?" Gavin says, not really paying attention, because if he did, he's sure the rocks that the other gentleman has just shoved down his throat will tumble down into his stomach and make a great plonking sound that he will vomit from. Thinking about vomit makes him want to vomit.  
"Yeah. Soon, maybe near Christmas."  
"You said 'thinking about', it's not a definite?"  
"Well, I've been thinking about it for awhile now, it's just..." Michael looks at him in the eyes, an unspoken and misunderstood message passing between them.  
"It's just?"  
"She and I have been going at it pretty bad lately. The whole thing about that time I got really drunk and told her I loved someone else."  
"Really?" Gavin is interested now, he's never heard this before.  
"Yeah. But I'm sure I love Lindsay. I could never hurt her like that. It must've been a mistake."  
"Really must've." Gavin says, quietly, the desperate swell of hope being smothered with the bitter truth. Gavin doesn't even know what "truth" that is. Suddenly, his phone buzzes. It is some girl he's slept with a couple of times. He supposes that made her his girlfriend because he hadn't slept with anyone else for a month, at least. He's gotten bored of her though, as he's always done with relationships that last longer than a couple weeks. He ignores it. Michael, however, notices.  
"I'm guessing that's one of your girlfriends?" he says with a tinge of spite that Gavin doesn't catch.  
"Yeah."  
"Love 'em and leave 'em."  
"That's the gist of it." Gavin grins wickedly.  
"You're an asshole."  
"And you're a prick."  
"You're a shitbag."  
Their sharp-tongued banter never usually bothers Gavin, in fact, it's his favorite type of interaction with Michael, but then again, there's never usually real anger.  
"Is there something wrong?" Gavin furrows his eyebrows.  
Michael doesn't respond. They eat their lunch in silence.

It is 10PM and the only people there are Brandon, Michael, Gavin, and Geoff. And in the blink of an eye, it's 12AM, and the only people there are Gavin and Michael.  
Gavin looks at Michael every so often, wondering what he's doing but never asking. Both of them had been drinking, and Michael is a bit fuzzy. Gavin is an absolute lightweight, and has rapidly spiralled into incoherency  
"Michael...your hair is really red." Gavin's not the best conversationalist, sober or not.  
"And you're drunk." Michael says without looking at him. Gavin has been pining for his attention all day. It's annoying the fuck out of him. He has to get home to take care of Lindsay and this stupid fucking video of more fucking ragequit won't process right and on top of that, fucking Gavin wants to talk. Talk like they're not both grown men, but angsty teenagers.  
"Michael, you know, I don't think you should propose to Lindsay."  
He freezes, and looks at Gavin in his stupid, drunk, green fucking eyes, his attention caught.  
"Why is that?" It's not as if Michael will base his decision on Gavin, fuck no. Just a second opinion. Regardless, he'd already gotten that goddamned ring, the one sitting in a place where she wouldn't find it, in the lockbox in the back of the closet that she didn't even know about, where he kept things she didn't need to know about.  
"When you're drunk is the only time you tell the entire truth. You need to deal with that if you want to move on with her. If you aren't in it one hundred percent, then there's a chance you'll be fucking up your life for good." This is perhaps one of the wisest things Michael has ever heard from Gavin. Which, though that is not saying much, has an impact on him.  
"I just don't know who it could be if it isn't her." Michael sighs. Drunk Gavin suddenly decides to slide onto his lap. He gives him a cheeky smile and Michael, having put up with this prick for the longest time, ignores the wriggling, jostling person trying to get comfortable who throws his limbs around and finally settles with his legs hanging off the chair and nose poking Michael's ear. Gavin wonders why Michael smells so good. It isn't like a girl kind of good, all flowery and sweet and fills up the area around them and lingers in their hair, but a very male kind of good that he's not used to being intoxicated by. Not that he finds it attractive here. Well, he does, but he'd never admit it. He will blame it on the alcohol, as he usually does.  
"Are you wearing cologne?" He mutters as he moves his nose to sniff at his neck and the collar of his shirt.  
"Nope."  
"Really? You sure?"  
"Yes I'm fucking sure Gavin." Michael sounds irritated,  
"You smell very good." He murmurs into his throat.  
"Get off of me." Michael grumbles, because the closeness, the heat, and the vibrations are annoying the fuck out of him. The worst part is Gavin knows and just wants him to be angry at him all the fucking time, so that one day he will have had enough and he will punch his stupid nose so hard it will be like when Daffy Duck is shot in the face and his bill goes around on the wrong side of his head, except there will be blood. Lots and lots of blood.

Gavin loves when Michael is annoyed with him. He loves it that an easily irritated ginger will center his universe around him and nothing else will be in his field of view, he loves his attention. He craves it. Like a small child who wants Daddy to play with him. He doesn't know what his obsession is with holding Michael's attention, but he does it almost daily. Now, he looks up at him and slurs,  
"Your hair is so damn curly." He tugs at one of the locks,  
"I love curly hair." He adds an odd sort of astonishment, as if he's just realized this himself.  
"Good for you." He grits his teeth. Gavin is now shifting all over and Michael can feel it in places he shouldn't feel it so it'd be fucking great if Gavin could get the fuck off before he simply stands and dumps this drunk asshole on the ground.  
"Gavin, get off of me, before I beat you. You are drunk. I am uncomfortable. Do it now." 

Gavin doesn't want to. He feels perfectly comfortable, and to emphasize this he stretches languidly and smiles at him. 

Michael gives up on his editing. He just wants to go home to Lindsay, because it's not weird if he has a halfie with her on his lap, grinding on him, but it's weird if it's Gavin. This day has simply gotten weirder and weirder and all he wants, all he needs, is some assurance that he knows what the hell is going on.  
"Michael...I'm tired." Gavin murmurs as he has his head in the crook of Michael's neck and his warm breath gives him goosebumps,  
"Then I'll drive you home."  
"Not that kind of tired. I'm tired of you. Everything about you drives me crazy." Gavin slurs. Michael is frozen.  
"You're so angry and I love the tattoos and the glasses and you're a ging and it all works for some reason and you have freckles and I want to fuck you sometimes, but you're a man and I'm a man and that's rather queer so all I do is get drunk and sleep with random women who aren't you, but it's been the longest time since I've slept with someone because I just can't..." He swallows, eyes half closed,  
"I can't do it anymore." 

Michael can't either. Each time he hears it, it sends him into overdrive. He is not sober, but he's certainly not as inebriated as Gavin. He remembers. He remembers every time that Gavin has done this, in the course of their time together. Getting tired of all the lies and trying so hard to be straight and normal, getting drunk and then telling Michael how much he loves him. Michael has known this for quite awhile now, but only Michael. That was the first time he'd seen him cry. He feels awful because there's absolutely nothing he can do. He doesn't want to string him along, he will marry Lindsay. It is not up for question. He loves her so much and to break up with her would be unthinkable. 

But he can't help it. Gavin is like a magnet. 

This is where Gavin tries to kiss him and Michael abruptly stands and takes him home. But this time he doesn't. He can't help himself. Perhaps this is the other person, perhaps this is why when he meant to propose to her way back when in August, he didn't. Perhaps now he can deal with his demons. 

Gavin's mouth smashes against his, violent and exactly how Michael feels. He wants to be able to shove him off, tell himself that he's not gay, tell himself he feels nothing so he can, once and for all, be happy. But, of course, he can't. He doesn't push him off because for some reason his hands won't move and his hips refuse to simply buck him off and his mouth is terribly responsive and he feels so alive and wrong and mostly just angry. He's angry that Gavin is kissing him and he can't stop it and he's not even that drunk and he feels all damn tingly and horrid. His mind is a simple stream of Fuck. Gavin. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Balls. Gavin. Hate. Hate. Fucking. Hate. Love? Love. Fuck. Gavin. Love. Hate. Shit. FUCK ME AND FUCK YOU AND FUCK ALL OF US.  
Hands find his scalp and run down his chest and they're just everywhere. They're up his shirt and they give him goosebumps. They're touching him in places and other places and THAT place that he's only vague about because he's just so confused. If he was slightly more sober, he would have the conscious to think about the ring and his girlfriend and all the pain he's potentially causing her, the person he's cared about for so long and has done so much for him, who's so kind and caring and the best person ever. But he's not. He is only thinking about himself and how good he feels and how it's possible that this piece of shit on his lap can do this to him. He finally musters the strength to pull Gavin away from him.  
"You fucker." Michael gasps. 

Gavin feels extraordinarily pleased. Michael's pupils have dilated and his mouth is swollen from the roughness. His skin is pinkish and he realizes just how much this person, this man, this mother fucker had made him wake up in the night, nearly spunking in his pants. Gavin is too drunk to care about anything, not that he does much of that anyhow.  
"Get the fuck off you stupid asshole. It's late."  
"But Michael..." Gavin pines, pawing at his chest. Now that he has him, he doesn't want to let go. He doesn't want to be sober and forget like he's slowly doing now, he wants to remember the feel of his lips and the alcohol on his breath and the bulge he knows is there. More than that, this is his last chance, before he's gone forever, with the person he loves. Gavin hates how incredibly unfair life is, that he has finally fallen for someone and he is both a man and already nearly engaged to be married. He presses his forehead against Michael's.  
"I wish this didn't happen. I wish I could've gone to school and stayed in England and let you on your merry way with your beautiful girlfriend and I could go be a queer with some other curly-haired ging with anger management issues, who doesn't have a lovely girlfriend he's going to propose to." He kisses him again, warm and soft, and Michael tastes like sadness. 

He should just take him home. He is okay enough to drive, Gavin will be quiet as not to wake up the Ramsey's. He will just tell Lindsay he had to help Gavin with some audio problems. Gavin draws little circles into his jeans.  
"C'mon." Michael murmurs as he very gently shoves Gavin off of him, and stands.  
"We'll take you home, and you won't remember a thing." 

And Gavin doesn't.


End file.
